PAGE SIX
ItMAMDfN RUBY MlißWte,
DAM BUSS,
V^W////illif\\W^\-X BY CENTRAL PRESS ASSOCIATION
HEAD Till 8 FIRST:
Margalo Younger, an actress, is
found murdered in the home of Dote
Van Every, a collector of rare jewels,
with a sharp needle-like instrument
at the base of her brain. The only
persons in the room at the time of
the murder were Van Every, whom
she had just met, and Gary Maug
han, old friend of hers and an ac
quaintance of Van Every. Against
his wishes, she had been wearing
Van E very’s fatuous Camden ruby,
which he described as a "murder
stone", as he recounted its gruesome
history to his audience of two. De
tective Keyes questions Maughan,
Van Every, the latter’s niece, Joyce,
who lives in the house, and her
elderly companion, Laura Randall.
Maughan, who is anxious to help
solve the murder, learns from Mar
oalo’s maid that a Roy Barrimorc
has called on the dead actress fre
quently. Maughan then goes to De
tective Keyes’ office for further ques
tioning. The detective call in Allan
Foster, Joyce’s fiance, for question
ing. Keyes and Maughan learn that
Foster at one time was in love ivith
the dead actress. Laura Randall calls
on Detective Keyes to volunteer some
information. A phone call to the dc-±
tectivc brings the report that Roy
Barrimorc, close friend of Margalo,
has shot himself.
(NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY)
CHAPTER 18
KEVES HALF invited me to ac
company him to St. Vincent’s to see
Roy Barrimore. I needed no urging,
and he seemed glad when I started
out with him. Sergeant Neff was
waiting for us outside .he door of the
operating room.
“They're operating on him. Emer
gency job. Shot himself through the
lung, left lung, but the doctor doesn’t
know whether it is fatal. Thinks it
might be,’’ Neff announced to Keyes
briefly. We stepped away from the
door and sat down in a sheltered
corner of the corridor.
“I followed out your orders, sir.
Waited for Barrimore some time,
then found the landlord, who let us
in the place. Pine-looking place, sort
of Bohemian, but well furnished.
Rich rugs on the floors. Three
rooms, two downstairs and one up,
in the Lexington Mews. We had
over an hour to search, and went
over everything in the house from
top to bottom. A picture of Miss
Younger on the bureau in the bed
room. some notes of hers in a drawer
—might be love letters and might
not. I doubt it. Too impersonal.
"We looked especially for the trick
gun that shoots the needle, but didn’t
find it any place. No sign of any
weapon in the place. In fact no luck
there at all. We found nothing, ex
cept the few letters, four I think, and
the photograph. No locked drawers,
everything open. Nothing in any of
the pockets of Barrimore’s clothing.
“He came in—well, it was less
than an hour ago. I called you Just
after I had phoned for the ambu
lance. We were sitting in the living
room, waiting for him, when we heard
his key in the door. Then he came
in, staggered back when he saw us,
as If he was surprised. I showed my
star, and quick as a flash he got his
gun out of his pocket. I wasn’t ex
pecting it. so we did nothing. The
shot was a quick one, but he didn’t
take time to aim perfectly. He was
going for his heart, I know.
“Not a word was said. As I told
you. I had just showed my star. He
was stil! dressed in his tuxedo, at
1 o’clock—rumpled, his collar wilted,
aa if he had been going a terrific
pace, his eyes wild, crazy. I knew
him at once. The description I got
at the theater, then one from the
landlord. Besides, there was a sketch
of him in the living room, a good one.
That’s all, boss, I guess. Looks like
he murdered Margalo Younger!”
Neff sighed, and mopped his brow.
"What did you find in his pockets?”
Keyes asked.
Neff led us to a sr- ill room off the
surgery, where spread out on a table
was Barrimore’s bloodstained cloth
ing. The articles from his pockets
were arranged neatly beside the gar
ments. I shuddered when I saw the
crimson-blotched shirt, and the
ripped clothing. It had been cut
from his body with shears.
A watch, a fine one of platinum,
and chain, a cigaret holder of amber,
some S2OO in bills In an expensive
leather billfold, loose change, some
personal cards, a cigaret lighter of
silver, a linen handkerchief, hand
monogrammed, constituted his be
longings. The revolver Barrimore
had employed to shoot himself lay
near his watch.
Keyes fingered the billfold rapidly,
and pulled out a clipping which he
handed to me. It was the same that
1 had found in Margalo’s pocket
clipped from the previous morning
Dispatch.
We looked at each other in silence.
NEW ZEPPELIN ON MAIDEN VOYAGE OVER ATLANTIC
The von Hindcnburg, shown above Friodrichshafen during test flight
Forced by international tension to skirt France,
thus sacrificing hopes of a transatlantic record, the
ypn Hindenburg, the largest dirigible ever built, is
—... . — .I j
“All through?”
Whereas Margalo had cut hers neatly
with the scissors, Barrimore had
torn his roughly out.
The ruby again. Everywhere I
turned it stared me in the face. I
laid the clipping down with the other
things.
“Confound It!" Keyes muttered
softly.
A white-robed doctor opened the
door then, and, taking off the mask
that had nearly covered his face,
ripped off a pair of rubber gloves.
His white garment was stained with
blood. Reaching in his pocket, he
pulled out a cigaret, and blandly
walking to the table picked up Barri
more’s cigaret lighter.
“All through?” Keyes asked.
“Yes. Got the bullet. It was lodged
in the left lung. Very dangerous.
Don’t know whether the patient will
live,” he said between puffs. “Poor
devil made a nasty job of it.”
It wasn’t long after, when Barri
more was made comfortable in a pri
vate room, that Keyes and I tiptoed
in to look at him. The man on the
white bed was deathly pale, and was
barely breathing. His face, I thought,
was a fine one, thin, aristocratic, im
perious, even in his unconscious
state. He seemed about 35. His hair
was dark and a small, dark mus
tache edged his upper lip.
He loved Margalo. I looked at him
again curiously. Had he killed her?
He didn’t look like a killer as he lay
there trying to die. For that he
must be doing. His chin receded a
little. Weak. Yet there was some
thing likable about his face. I felt
no anger as I watched him. Nothing
that I thought I would feel. Finally,
I felt Keyes tugging at my arm, and
we left.
We were in the police car before
we spoke.
“I don’t think he killed Margalo,”
I said, reaching in my pocket for a
cigaret. “It would rather seem to
me that he shot himself, not because
he was guilty, but because Margalo
was dead.”
"I'm not jumping at conclusions,
Maughan. If he were jealous of you,
why didn’t he kill you instead of
Miss Younger? Perhaps, though, his
aim was bad. Perhaps he meant to
kill you, and when he found he had
killed Margalo Younger, he shot him
self."
“Keyes, you know very well that
the man who killed Margalo made a
perfect aim. He meant to kill her.
If man he was. The needle was
fired perfectly into the brain. It was
planned cold-bloodedly. Barrimore
doesn’t look like that kind of a
chap. What I’m aiming at, Keyes, is
this, if you don’t get me. If Barri
more is the man who killed Margalo.
would he have shot himself today,
worried, frightened a! f the sight of
three detectives in his home? Would
he now? No, I don’t think so. The
person who murdered Margalo is
cool, ruthless.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maughan, but
nevertheless. I’m swearing out a war
rant for Barrimore this afternoon,
holding him on the charge of the
murder of Margalo Younger!"
I left Keyes, promising to return
making its maiden voyage to Rio De Janeiro, South
America, from Friedrichshafen, Germany. The
new Zeppelin is shown above during test flight.
HENDERSON, (N. C.) DAILY DISPATCH, SATURDAY, APRIL 11, 1936 "
to his office after my interview with
Joyce.
Having an hour and a half before
I was to meet her, I took a taxi and
rode to Van Every’s house. Soon let
me in and led me to the library
where Van Every was writing letters
at the desk. He greeted me warmly,
and asked permission to finish his
letter.
On my way up I had noticed Mc-
Manus in the downstairs halL Keyts
had told me he was leaving a few
men in the house.
Van Every finished in perhaps 1C
minutes and joined me, suggesting
that we go into his bedroom for a
chat. I was grateful to him, for I
had no desire to stay in the library.
In my little stay there, my eyes had
glued themselves on the couch,
where Margalo had sat last night;
where Margalo was murdered. The
room was the same as when we had
entered it last evening, except that
it was not shadowy. It was daylight,
and some light penetrated through
the heavy blinds at the front win
dows. The blinds were draw r n, how
ever, and Van Every was working
at his desk under a green light, at
tached to the wall by a flexible stand
ard. He snapped it out, as he came
up to me.
“I’m sorry I kept you so long," he
apologized as we made ourselves
comfortable in the bedroorrf, “but
I’ve just written to my agent, asking
him to rent the house. I can’t live
in it any longer, and I know Joyce
feels the same. We shall leave as
soon as I find a tenant. It should
not take long, because I’ve offered
the house at a low rental. I’m only
taking some books with me. Joyce
and I will go abroad, or if she doesn't
want to do that, we’ll take a suite in
a hotel.”
“I don’t blame you,” I agreed.
“How is Joyce today?”
“We lunched together, and then
she went out.”
“Is the ruby still here?”
Van Every visibly shuddered. “Yes,
Keyes won’t let me move it.”
“You didn’t tell us—me.” I cor
rected myself hurriedly with a gasp,
realizing suddenly that Margalo must
have heard very little of the story,
“where you got it. You intimated,
though, that it was acquired under
peculiar circumstances.”
“No. I didn’t tell you last night. I
had told you enough. And I wish
now that I hadn’t told you anything,
hadn’t shown you the ruby, had not
let Miss Younger wear it.”
“You couldn’t help it. Van Every.
She knew about the ruby. I found
a clipping in her coat pocket. Some
how last night she was destined to
wear it; wanted to see it. That’s the
mystery about it all, damn it. She
knew about it. How she did, I don’t
know, but I rather think Roy Barri
more told her.”
“The man who called while I was
out last evening?"
“Yes. He shot himself today.”
“Shot himself?”
“May die. He knew about the
ruby. too. He had a clipping about
it in his billfold. Keyes found it.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
In Crash Which Killed 11
"■* lllli
Mrs. Meyer Ellenstein, wife of mayor of Newark, N. J., was one oi
the three survivors of the crash of a huge TWA transport plane which
crashed at Uniontown, Pa.': Mrs,'.Ellenstein was severely injured. She
is shown above with her husband. (Central Press)
h
V '• . vA
AY OPPOSE'COUZENS
98 SI By.
Wilber M. Brucker, right, a Grass Roots stalwart who served as
governor of Michigan from 1931 to 1933 may oppose Senator James
Couzens, left, for the Republican senatorial nomination. Brucker is
said to have the backing of the Michigan G. O. P., which is fighting
to oust Couzens, independent Republican termed by conservative
Republicans as too friendly to the New Deal. Senator Couzens.
however, is extremely popular with labor.
Ex-Townsend Aide and Wife
, : i 1 ' ;•*
Robert E. Clements, who recently realigned'from the Townsend Old. Age
Pension movement, is shown with his wife at Washington, whore he teStF
fled in the Congressional probe Os age pension organizations, dementi
was co-founder of the Townsend plan. > ’
. ' • ,' ; , (Central T'reef)) _
SOVIET AGAIN WARNS NIPPON
% C HINA; B
fefc—— Jta ;
■ f ~V J".-.- I- • I ru V
Where Japauese-Manchoukuoan forcee invaded Mongolian territory.
Map shows scene of latest reported invasion of outer Mongolia by
Japanese-Manchoukuoan troops, leading to heavy fighting. The
Soviet government warned Japan to put an immediate end to at
tacks by Japanese troops on Mongolians. Invaders proceeded 30
miles inside Mongolian territory.
SETTING UP TIME FOR BUNNIES!
I v':Sg&fe-x
--oaßttfc ••3»pira%« \ ffitljlgr^ y
wx. ■
What’s all the strutting about, Mr. Rabbit? ' Why, little chick, it’s
Easter time, you know, time when we do our stuff.
F. D. R. Goes Back to His Job j
Smiling, tanned, and rested after seventeen days of fishin*; in the tropica!
waters of the Bahamas, President Roosevelt is shown as he left the White
House yacht “Potomac” at Fort Lauderdale, Fla.
(Central Press).
A Kiss for His Father’s Life
Benito Mussolini recently publicly proclaimed Italy’s gratitude to •
mother and son whose breadwinner made the supreme sacrifice on a battle
field in Ethiopia. An interested spectator is Premier Julius Goemboes oi
Hungary, who to also the Hungarian Minister of War.